Eine Kleine Nachtmusik
by wrath
Summary: Compleat- There is a line dividing the hunter and the hunted. When a group of poachers find themselves stalked by a creature known as Rip, they learn how fine that line is
1. The hunt

Ok, i've gone back and revised this as the first vertion was riddled with mistakes. Also, this is no longer going to be a one shot and there's going to be a second part to this. I hope this is better than my first attempt...

_Eine Kleine Nachtmusik_

In the darkness of the South American jungle, she grinned and let what little moonlight percolated through the thick canopy to dance on her bare, naked teeth. Even in the dark the insanely elongated canines glinted like a pair of ivory daggers, looking right at home in the shark like smirk that crept over her face.

"Where did it go?" A voice floated up from below and even though the sound was muffled by the thick layers of overlapping leaves, her finely tuned ears were still able to pick out every word the man barked, right through to the squeak of fear that betrayed the authoritive tone.

She shifted her feet and peered through the twisted net of branches beneath her.

"I don't know!" one of the five men turned, oh she could even smell the sweet aroma of fearful sweat secreted between his hands and the grip of his rifle… "I swear it was right in front of us" He gulped, swallowing a dry mouthful. "Just what the hell was that thing anyway, chief?"

A pause, filled only by the chirp of night crawlers.

"I…I don't know," the 'chief' snapped back into character. "But we're going to bag it." Ha, what a performance. Even though she was twenty feet above them, she could still hear his heart booming at a thousand miles per minuet in side his chest with enough force to break his ribs.

"Maybe we should just leave it," A voice of reason piped. "I mean, you saw what it did to Juan…"

Silence fell on the group. Up in the canopy, her grin widened as she let her tongue roam over her teeth, allowing it to pick what remained of Juan from between her inhuman fangs. She hadn't been expecting to find anything quite so tasty on this particular night and had been pleasantly suppressed when the foreign aroma of man had filled her nostrils. Normally, the untamed jungle offered nothing more interesting than monkeys and the occasional leopard. Once, long ago, she would have leapt at the chance to hunt such exotic prey but now…well, it was just boring. Nature had given her an unfair advantage over the beasts and stalking them was more of a joke than a challenge…

So it was needless to say she was over the moon when she finally found this grope of poacher's camp and saw poor Juan sitting out side, battling to stay awake and keep watch while his comrades slumbered in their tents. By the time they'd all stirred into life, their friend was nothing more than a torn mass of jumbled limbs and gore.

"Damnit, I'm not going to let that thing get away! Whatever the hell it was, we're going to hunt it down and make it pay!"

Above them, their quarry stepped off the thick branch supporting her neo-existent weight, allowing her foot to hover in the empty air as she paused for just a second and savoured the passing time. This had always been her favourite moment of the hunt…

"Bah, it's probably gone n-"

Something brushed his back.

"What?" The four other's were staring at him as if he'd just sprouted a second head. "Why are you looking at me like tha…" He trailed off as he tilted his head back in an attempt to see what had got them all so spooked, but he seemed to loss the power of speech when pair of blood red eyes met his own. His brain stuttered. How the hell was this possible? There was someone standing on his shoulders and he could barely feel them?

"Gutten Nacht!" The oddly grey face chirped down at him in a singsong voice and the man could only bring himself to blink stupidly in response.

"What- what are you?"

"Me?" A black arc of hair hovered between the crimson eyes that sat behind a thin set of glasses. "I'm Rip Van Winkle, zhe huntress!"

The men gawked, still sealed dumb with shock.

"…Und I guess zhat makes you mien pray, ja?" the man still said nothing as this strange creature spoke, bending over him until its now upside-down face hovered only a few inches from his own.

"Prey?" He echoed as his utterly confused brain tried to catch up with the situation.

"Zhat's right!" The creature's face split a grin that revealed a mouth filled with razor blades and that was all it took to shake the man from his state of shock. He screamed for all he was worth and staggered back in some vain attempt to get away from the monstrous visage staring point black into his own. He was still screaming when it's jaw's tore open to an impossible length and those teeth came racing towards his face.


	2. Blood sport

Yeah, this really just is sencless violence for the hell of it. Before the hoard of lawyers claim me, I don't own rip, but I do own the four rather hapless hunters…

_Eine Kleine Nachtmusik_

Chief tore his eyes from the screaming poacher.

"For the love of god, shoot!" He roared at fourth member of the group, clutching his rifle so tightly that the skin lapping over his knuckles looked fit to tare. The hunter didn't even hear the chief but stood rooted to the spot as he goggled at the man staggering drunkenly before him, trying to tare the tooth-filled mouth from his face. He might as well be trying to free his head from the iron grip of a bear trap.

"I-I might hit Deajo…" The boy of a man stuttered, drawing the rifle closer to his chest.

"Idiot!" Chief viciously ripped the rifle from the young man's grip and snarled. "Do you think that matters?"

_CRUNCH_

A mad spasm shook Deajo's body as the muffled sound of bone fracturing escaped from between the creature's ever tightening jaws.

"Oh good god…" Someone shrieked as it threw its head back, taking the top half of the broken skull with it before leaping from its perch as the corpse toppled over like the dead weight it was.

Loafer-clad feet hit the floor without a sound. The creature drew itself up to its true, gangly height and turned to face the group with a blood stained grin…

…only to find itself staring down the long barrel of a hunting rifle.

"BITCH!" Chief's scream was drowned out by the gun's war cry, the flare erupting from the metal muzzle momently illuminating the small clearing. Its head snapped back, crimson ribbons of blood flying from the rear of it's skull as it fell to the ground with a soft thud and for a moment, all was quiet.

"What the HELL was that?!" One of the khaki clad men finally blurted, voicing the unanimous thought they silently all shared. The boy (seeming to have re-grown a spine now the threat had been neutralized by a well aimed bullet) broke off from the staring crowed and took a few tentative steps towards the downed monster.

"Well, whatever it is, it's dead…" He noted, peering down at the motionless, strewn out body. He let out a nervous laugh and looked back at the group with a grin. "You got it right through the eye too!"

"Never mind that!" A bearded hunter barked. "What is that thing?"

The boy glanced back at the thing on the floor, but thing didn't really seem like the right word as he let his eyes play over the body… after all, since when did 'things' wear tailored suits?

"It looks like a girl…" He called back to the group of men as he studied the pale face frozen in an expression that loudly said 'oh crap' from underneath strands of psychotic black hair that seemed to stretch on forever. If it hadn't been for the gapping hole that had replaced her left eye, you wouldn't be blamed for doubting this somewhat boy-ish girl had just decapitated two men…

Something glinted up at the corner of his eye from between the folds of the black suit.

"What have you got there?" The man in khaki asked as the boy picked something up from the downed girl's chest but the boy said nothing, staring intently at the mystery object in his hand. "Hey, kid! What is it?"

"…"

"Huh?"

The boy looked up, bewilderment flooding his brown eyes.

"It-it's a swastika…" Khaki stiffened at the word, a chill racing up his spine.

"A what now?"

But the boy said no more, turning his head back to the dead girl. What the hell was she anyway? A Nazi in today's world seemed almost as unlikely as penny-farthings becoming the new mountain bike. He was just about to repeat himself when the right, blood-red eye rolled sharply in its socket and met his gaze.

"SHIT!" He yelped, leaping to his feet as the swastika's prongs dug into his sweaty hands. God, his heart nearly leapt out his chest th-

"Vould you mind letting go of zhat?

He screamed, dropping the symbol as the girl's lips twitched back into life. The boy scuttled back, mouth agape in a silent 'o' of terrified disbelief as he watched the girl get back to her in one fluid movement that paid total disregard to the laws of physics. From wear he stood, it was as if some invisible presence has stamped down on her upturned feet, flipping her up like a garden rake.

The spindly girl lifted her head and positively beamed at the cluster of men, the bark of the tree behind her eyeing them through the tunnel dug by Chief's bullet.

"Mien gotten, it's been such long time since someone actually managed to blow a hole _through _mien head!" She tapped the side of her skull with a gloved finger, still laughing as if having her brains blown out was the most hilarious thing that had happened to her all day. "Congratulations to the good shot, you hit zhe peripheral bull's-eye. And look!" The finger danced to the rim of her blood splattered spectacles (minus the left lens), plucking them from the bridge of her nose and held them up for all the world to see. "You even broke mien glasses!"

"What…how the hell…why aren't you dead?" The bearded one spluttered, a hand creeping towards the handgun wedged snugly in his belt. The head turned and locked onto him with its lone eye. The gapping hole had closed up, shrinking to nothing but a ring of raw flesh and already something white was budding in its centre like some un-holy flower.

'_Jesus, it's growing another eye…'_

There was a wet pop as the eye burst through the membrane of skin, looking insanely large without any lids.

"Oh," She chuckled, revelling in the look of utter disgust on the bearded poacher's face. "It takes more zhan a steady aim to do away with me…"

The beard was willing to challenge the statement, whipping the pistol from its resting place and emptying the entire chamber into the girl…

…except not a single bullet found its target. There was a blur of movement and the bullets tore into the tree that had stood behind her, the metal slugs ripping the bark from its trunk. Beard recoiled, snarling at the now empty space before him.

"Where'd it go!?" A distinctly German voice that most defiantly didn't belong to any of his buddies answered.

"Zhat vasn't very sporting…" Four heads turned in unison, and all four saw the girl crouched on the vertical angle of one of the forest's trees, a look of melodramatic woe on her face. "You know, I vas thinking of playing fair, but…" She trailed off, letting one of those over-long canniness slip over her lip.

"Nazi…you can just go to hell!" The one in Khaki spat vehemently and raised his own rifle in time to see the thing be-known to them as Rip launch herself from the trunk, diving at him with a net of widely splayed fingers that were just itching to live up to her namesake.

He pulled the trigger, grinning almost as madly as the pouncing monster. There was no way she could ever dodge this…

Except she did. The bullet should have plugged its way through her chest, arresting her mad flight, but it never found the mark. In the split second it would have taken for it to hit, it was as if the thing flying for him simply disintegrated into a mass of formless black. Khaki ear's had just enough time to register the dry rustle of countless wings beating the air before the dense cloud of bats smashed into him, smothering every inch of his body with an army of ravenous claws and teeth. The man would have screamed, but found his throat had been replaced by a gory mess of shredded flesh.

By the time the horde of flying creatures had tumbled past the man in khaki, he was already face down on the ground and choking in a pool of his own spilt blood as the life gushed from him through slashed arteries.

Chief blinked, his brain begging his eyes to tell him it was all a lie.

"Run!" He turned on the boy and the beard, snapping them from the morbid trace that had fallen over the two as they watched the unbelievable scene unfold. "Run and don't turn back!"

The beard took a step forward, his mouth creeping open in protest.

"But-"

"Damnit, neither of you are armed. She'll just tare you apart!" The chief shot his hunting partner a murderous glance over his shoulder, causing the larger man to halt in his tracks. By the time he looked back, the cloud of bats was already twisting together, morphing into the tall form of something equally inhuman.

An insane grin split through the black as wings melted into pale skin and dark cloth.

"GO!"

The beard dropped his head, heavy with guilt, and turned to chase the already vanishing form of the boy who'd turned tail as soon as the order had been given. Chief watched them go from the corner of his eye, each and every part of him longing to flee with them but he'd chosen to stand his ground even though the possibility of him walking away from this little confrontation were close to zero.

Clenching the rifle, he turned to face the monster…only to find it directly in front of him staring right back.

"You know something?" It drawled. "You heroics bore me _stiff_. Surely you must know zhat it's no fun when zhe pray doesn't run?"

Chief pulled up the rifle only to find a gloved hand locked around it. There was a painful groan from the weapon as it was twisted out of shape by the merciless grip.

And then it hit home. This was all just a game to the leering creature and she was going to wipe them all out one by one with that sick smile on her face. Gun or none, she was going to kill them all…

"Why…why are you doing this to us?"

Rip looked offended and wrinkled her nose at the question.

"Vhy? Mien good man, surly I could ask zhe same of you." A long, accusing finger prodded his chest with enough force to crack a rib. "Vhy do you go hunting little animals zhat stand not a chance against you and your vepons?" The finger traced the crinkles of his shirt, ascending to his neck where it lingered almost playfully. "Hmm?" The finger stopped tracing shallow circles in the trembling flesh. "You don't know? Doesn't it just give you a vonderful sense of fulfilment?" The finger dug a little deeper, letting the concealed nail bite into his skin. The last thing chief saw before she drove it home was that chilling grin inch across her face. "Doesn't it just make you feel _alive_?"

Rip watched the man crumple to the floor, not caring that he couldn't answer her question and sighed. That had been far too easy, an utter disappointment in fact.

'_Looks like I'm going to have to find a challenge elsewhere…'_

She turned to slink off into the dark of the surrounding jungle when her gaze graced the Khaki clad man's discarded rifle. Ah! How silly of her, she'd almost forgotten all about the two who had scurried off like a pair of startled rabbits, they could be anywhere by now…

Rip Van Winkle's waning grin refreshed itself anew as she bent low and scooped up the long fire arm, playing an old song about the father-land on her lips.

Maybe there was some fun to be had before the sun came up…


End file.
